


Do It Like a Dude

by inkfiction



Series: Bleighton prompts [4]
Category: Gossip Girl RPF
Genre: Archiving previous works, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-12
Updated: 2012-04-12
Packaged: 2019-02-08 19:18:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12871254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkfiction/pseuds/inkfiction
Summary: Blake tries to prove a point. Leighton POV.





	Do It Like a Dude

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is purely a work of fiction. I own none of these very real people.

She pushes you against the wall and although you struggle, being five foot ten and built to Amazonian proportions certainly has its advantages. Which is totally unfair, you think, as she, completely disregarding your half-hearted attempts to wriggle free, slips a hard-muscled, well-toned thigh between your legs and applies just the right amount of pressure on exactly the right spot that has you gasping, and clutching her shoulders, digging your nails in her shoulder blades, and cursing the needy way your treacherous hips grind against her thigh. There's no point in denying that you want this, it is written all over your face, and she  _knows._ You know she knows.

And really, it was one of your own inane, spur of the moment comments which has brought you to this little tryst in the shadowy little alcove behind Blair’s fake bedroom set in the studio. What, in the name of all that’s holy and all that’s not, possessed you to say right in front of her, like the foot-always-in-the-mouth-fool that you are, that although you’ve kissed girls, either when the scene demanded or just for the heck of it, you still prefer a guy’s touch.

“I mean,” you had gone on, happily oblivious to the way she had become absolutely still or the dangerous look that had come in her eyes. “—who can do it better than a dude, seriously?” And you had looked at her for approval, and that was when she had grabbed your arm, robe and half-removed makeup and all, and pushed you here where you were ensconced right now, and it had all happened in the duration of a sudden, surprised gasp uttered by you. Because, what the fuck, seriously, hadn’t you just told her that you were totally straight? Or well, sort of totally straight. Maybe. Ish.

It doesn’t take long for you to trip over the edge, and you come hard against her thigh, your moans and half-suppressed guttural screams swallowed by her mouth as she cups your face in those long fingers and kisses you hard enough to bang your teeth together. And your breath is still coming in short, uneven gasps when she lets go of your lips, the blue of her eyes a thin, translucent rim around dark, full-blown pupils, and says in a deep, throaty voice, rough with lust, “Have you changed your opinion or would you still prefer to do it like a dude?”

Now what can you say to that?


End file.
